


Deliver Us From Evil

by Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angsty Schmoop, Delirium, M/M, Sexual Dysfunction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 22:42:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1281481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Blake was able to overpower Ensor's son? The time saved might have enabled them to rescue Ensor. It also might have allowed Ensor, Jr* to use his shrewd powers of observation to discover a secret Blake's kept from everyone- especially from Avon. </p><p> </p><p>*Unnamed canonically (they fridged him so fast it made my head spin) so I took the liberty of calling him Alin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deliver Us From Evil

**Author's Note:**

> Another blast from the past- this was in Fire and Ice 3, published in May of 1995, so probably written in 1994. I think this held up better than some of my old fic, but characterization has Blake and Avon more schmoopily Emo than I would have them today & there's the occasional point of view change.
> 
> I tidied it as best I could. All remaining flaws are just part of its charm.

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

The hand that held the gun trembled. Blake tensed to leap, but Ensor's son lifted his head and said, "She'll die if you try that again. Now, take this ship to Aristo. Coordinates eleven - two- intersect nine." The man was weak, but it took very little strength to pull a trigger. Cally was helpless, her face pressed sideways to the deck. The weight of a solidly-built man held her motionless, unable to use any of her unarmed combat techniques.

"You'll be killing yourself, too," Blake replied. "And for nothing. My ship is much faster than your old SpaceMaster was. We can easily pick up my people and still be able to get to your father in time."

"No. My father gets the power cells first."

Blake considered waiting until the man collapsed, but he sensed a steely determination that would drive this man to his dying breath. "I understand. You love your father. He's all you have and you'll do anything to save him." He lowered his voice. "I love someone, too. One of my crew down on that planet. One of the people who saved you. They're being exposed to radiation -every minute we argue they're coming closer to dying."

"Take me to Aristo quickly, then."

Blake shook his head slowly. "If my lover dies, then I'll see you and your father dead if I have to burn the entire planet down to its core. This ship can do it."

 _Blake, no!_ Cally's telepathic cry startled both men. Blake had experienced it before, so he was only slightly taken aback, but Ensor's son reeled, dropping the gun to clutch at his temples. Before he could recover, Cally had rolled out from under him and knocked him out with a neat blow to his neck.

Blake grabbed the gun and put it safely aside, then checked that the man was unconscious. "Are you all right?" he asked Cally.

The Auron rubbed her neck where the gun had rested so heavily. "Yes. Blake," she asked, worried. "You would not have destroyed an entire planet simply for revenge, would you?"

Blake picked up the unconscious man, grunting with the effort. He answered, "Revenge is never simple, Cally. I'm taking him back to medical. This time he stays under restraints."

Cally nodded. Restraints seemed cruel to her, but were necessary in this case. She followed Blake and saw her patient settled as comfortably as possible. "I'm going to the teleport," Blake told her, assured that she had the situation under control. "The others have been gone too long."

"And you're worried about them. About Jenna?" Cally hinted gently, wondering if Blake's words had been true. It was obvious Jenna was attracted to Blake, but it far less obvious how Blake felt about Jenna.

"I'm worried about all of them."

Blake went to the teleport room and activated the communications link. "Avon, are you there? This is Blake, can you read me?"

"Like a primer," came Avon's acid tones through the wall speaker. "Why were you out of touch? What were you and Cally doing, having a party?"

In the background Blake heard Vila grumbling about not having been invited. Blake grinned with relief. The thief would not have been that relaxed if there were any danger. "Our guest gave us a bit of trouble," he admitted, "but that's settled now. Have you found Jenna?"

"I'm here," Jenna used her own communicator to answer him directly.

"Are you all right?"

"She's fine. We're all fine," Avon answered impatiently. He forestalled Blake's next question. "We'll be ready in a few minutes."

"Why not now? What attraction could Cephlon possibly have for you?"

Another voice came through, less clearly than Avon, but still quite distinct. It was a young woman's voice, soft-spoken, with an undercurrent of quiet joy. "The Lord Avon is about to fulfill the prophecy."

"Lord Avon?" Blake sputtered, hard put to control his laughter.

"It's a long story," Avon warned.

"But with a happy ending," Gan put in. He quite enjoyed making Avon glare at him.

"I dunno," Vila said. "It's scary to think that Avon's the hero in this fairy tale. What does that make us?"

"The fool and the giant, of course," Avon replied smoothly. "Now, let's get this over with." He quickly directed the others in the launch of the Cephlonian space-going incubator and said farewell to Meegat.

***

Avon frowned at Blake. Ever since they'd returned to the Liberator, Blake kept regarding him with amusement and encouraging the others to tease him about Meegat. It had been embarrassing enough having that poor, deluded child worshiping at his feet, but at least she didn't know any better. Was it too much to expect civilized conduct from the only other Alpha male on board? Meegat's prophecy took very little effort to fulfill. Why should they make such a fuss over it? You'd think he ate small children for breakfast.

"All right, we've each done our good deed for the day, Blake." Avon strode over to his position, examining the readouts as he spoke. His attitude was all business. If he hoped it would rub off on his companions, it was a fleeting hope.

"What was mine?" Blake asked, with a good-natured grin.

"Letting Ensor's son live after he attempted to murder Cally."

"Why, Avon, we didn't know you cared," Jenna commented.

"I don't. But I don't see that it serves any useful purpose to cosset a hostile agent. And it is doubly foolish to chauffeur this ungrateful wretch back to his home."

"His father might be grateful to get him back," Vila remarked.

"How grateful?" Avon shot back.

"Ensor's supposed to be a computer genius. Maybe we could trade you for him. You could have a whole deserted planet all to yourself and all the computer bits you could shake a stick at."

Avon looked at Vila mildly, tilting his head as he considered the idea. "Don't tempt me."

Blake cleared his throat. "Ensor does have one valuable item. Orac. Servalan wants it, so we'll have to see she doesn't get it."

"Servalan wants everything," Vila grumbled. "I don't see what we need with another computer whatzit. We have Zen."

"Which does not always obey," Avon said. "On the other hand, Ensor has been in hiding for thirty years. Who's to say he hasn't gone insane from the isolation and imagined this marvelous invention?"

"His son." Cally came onto the flight deck, momentarily drawing the others' attention. "From what little Alin will say about it, this Orac device is unique, and has capabilities no other computer can match. Ensor had promised to sell it to the Federation for one hundred million credits and the new energy cells for his heart."

"We have the energy cells," Blake said thoughtfully, "and there is the treasure room."

"Which is not your sole property," Avon snapped. "If you really want this Orac, trade Ensor his son and his energy cells."

Jenna didn't want to side with Avon against Blake, but the temptation was strong. Once in a while, she would appreciate it if Blake remembered she'd spaced and traded for a living. He could do worse than ask her advice. Instead of always listening to that sharp-tongued bastard. She would have said so, in fact, but she was too tired for a fight at the moment. So she concentrated on her flight controls. At least Blake wasn't listening to Avon either, this time. They were already going to Aristo.

Gan had been quietly observing the others and noticed that Avon's color was high and he was sweating. Blake often affected Avon that way, but it seemed more pronounced than usual this time. For that matter, he felt a bit warm himself. Maybe the environmental controls needed adjustment.

Blake said in his most patronizing tone, "That's the Federation's way, Avon. If we use their tactics, we'll be no better than they are."

"We aren't any better than they are!" Avon flushed bright red with anger. "In case you hadn't noticed, we're terrorists, Blake."

"You say that." Blake folded his arms across his chest. "But you don't really believe it."

Blake's calm assumption that the entire universe agreed with him was bad enough, but implying that Avon was another witless idealist was too much. Avon abandoned his post with the intention of wiping the smug grin off the big rebel's face. But a sudden wave of dizziness struck just as he stepped down to Blake's level. Off balance, he reached out wildly.

Blake reacted instinctively, grabbing Avon around the chest. He felt the other's heart pounding against him. "What happened?" Blake asked, concerned, holding on.

"I don't know." Avon allowed Blake to hold him for a moment longer, then he shook his head and straightened, Blake's signal to release him. "A momentary dizziness. Nothing of consequence."

There was a loud thump and the deck shook to a heavy weight. "Gan?" Vila looked back, finding his friend collapsed across two levels. He froze, frightened. Gan seemed indestructible. If Gan could die, so could he, he realized for the first time.

Jenna started toward Gan, but stumbled, and had to lean upon the nearest station. The strength had left her legs, and her arms trembled as she forced herself to move toward the stricken man. "Gan?"

Cally got to Gan first and knelt by him for a quick examination. "He's alive." She frowned. "I think it's the radiation."

"Damn," Jenna said softly. Radiation poisoning was a nasty business, at best. And from Cally's expression, it was far from the best.

"Radiation?" Vila squeaked. "From the planet? Does that mean we're all sick?"

Cally produced a small device and ran it the length of Gan's arm. The shrill protest of the device gave him his answer. "The dosage is beyond human tolerance."

Vila went white. "Does that mean we're going to die?"

"Don't panic, Vila," Avon said. He'd gotten his strength back and had regained his composure. "A week's treatment of anti-radiation drugs and we'll all be fine."

"Great. I'm ready, Cally. Give me my shot or whatever it is," Vila said. He turned toward the corridor.

"I can not do that, Vila," Cally said gently. "We have no anti-radiation drugs on board."

"None, Cally?" Blake asked. "I can't believe that. The medical unit has everything else."

She shook her head. "I suspected we might need the drugs, Blake. I searched thoroughly. There are none."

"Well, what are we going to do, then?" Vila asked, frantically looking from one person to another for a solution. He settled on Avon. Avon always seemed to have a clever answer.

"We appear to have two choices Vila. Die with dignity or die screaming and kicking."

"No. Not me. It must be a mistake."

"Yes. In your case, dignity is not an option."

Blake refused to give in whether with dignity or without. "Ensor must have some. We'll get the drugs. Everything will be all right, Vila." Avon gave Blake a sour look, but did not dispute him. It was their only chance.

***

The white-haired scientist eased himself into his chair, grumbling about his son's delay. By the time Alin and the surgeon reached him, it might be too late. He should have got the power cells for his artificial heart sooner, but he kept putting off dealing with the Federation. Restless, he got up to set his metal bird singing while he fed his fish and watered his plants. His world had reduced to this- one room of living things, and a dying man to care for them. And Orac, who was not quite alive. And Alin, who would inherit an empty world if he took much longer.

Ensor settled carefully into his recliner. He should sleep, to make the limited energy last longer. He lay back and closed his eyes. A stranger's voice roused the old man before he had quite dozed off. "Ensor, this is the Liberator. Roj Blake speaking."

Ensor opened his eyes, irritated. "Orac, why are you relaying that message? You know my orders. I don't want to bother with anyone. I haven't the strength to waste."

A voice similar to Ensor's replied, "They say they have the energy cells. It seemed likely you would wish to converse with them."

"Yes. Yes. Of course." Ensor sat up, holding onto his chest for a moment as the too sudden movement strained his failing heart. "I want to talk to them, Orac. Blake? Do you hear me, Blake? How did you know I was here?"

"Your son Alin told my crew when we picked him up."

"This is against our bargain. My son and the surgeon were to come alone. Orac can keep you off this planet, you know. He controls a very powerful force field, nothing can get through it once he activates it." Even weak, Ensor refused to kowtow to authority.

"We're not Federation. But the Federation did break your bargain. They sabotaged your son's ship. He was injured in the crash, but we think he'll recover. We do have your power cells but unfortunately, the surgeon died."

"No surgeon? Well, why did you bother to come then? For Orac, I'll wager. Thought it would be simple, stealing from a sick old man. Well, you'd better think again."

"We can get a doctor," Blake assured him. "And in the meantime, our surgical unit is well supplied and has the most advanced equipment. We'll do the best we can for you."

"Advanced, you say? Well, then, there's no problem. Orac will handle the operation. It should be simple enough."

"Orac?"

"Yes, yes, what's the matter, are you hard of hearing? Come down in your shuttle or landing pod or whatever and get me and Orac. You do want Orac, don't you? What are you waiting for?"

"I have to ask one thing, first. We need anti-radiation medicines, urgently. Four of my crew, and your son, too, have been exposed to radiation."

"Filthy stuff, drugs. Never touch them myself."

Blake groaned.

Ensor continued, "Have them, though. You're welcome to as much of it as you like, provided you get your shuttle moving and get to me before I keel over and die."

"We have teleport."

"Oh?" Ensor sounded mildly interested. "Not my field, but still, I'd like to look at that- after the operation."

"Anything you like, Ensor. If you can give coordinates, I can come directly to you."

"That would be a time-saver, most efficient." Ensor nodded, approving. "Orac, you heard? Give the coordinates for this chamber to Blake's computer. Direct to this teleport apparatus, if you can. Let's not waste any more time."

Jenna had been at her post during the whole conversation. "Ensor sounds like a charming fellow," she commented, then wiped a sweaty strand of hair away from her face.

Blake said, "He and Avon ought to get along well." He looked at Jenna closely. "Can you stay on watch alone? I want to take Cally with me. I could call Avon," he offered.

"No thanks. Even when he's feeling well, he isn't good company. I'll be all right. Just hurry, Blake."

"I will." Blake squeezed her shoulder in passing.

"Took you long enough," Ensor complained as Blake and Cally appeared before him. He didn't bother to notice the guns they held at ready. He turned and took a couple of steps, then looked back. "Well, come on. No time for sight-seeing." He pointed out a dusty box on a shelf otherwise loaded with tropical plants. "There's the drugs." He pointed in the other direction at a clear plexi-box filled with lights and electronic parts, seemingly attached at random. "And that's Orac. Pick them up and let's be off." He was practically dancing with impatience, while Cally checked that the box did contain the needed medicine. Blake put the computer into a carrying case and hefted it. It wasn't an impressive object. Maybe Avon was right and Ensor a madman who'd fantasied a remarkable computer. Still, as long as the drugs were real, he wouldn't quibble.

Cally placed a teleport bracelet gently on Ensor's wrist. "You need this in order to teleport."

"Yes, yes, I can see that. This must be a focus- a link with the main device." He almost took the bracelet off to examine it, but Cally stopped him, with a "Please, we must go now."

"Hmm? Oh, yes."

The three appeared in the teleport chamber. Ensor promptly collapsed. Blake let his box fall to the deck, so he could catch him. Cally set the precious drugs down more gently. She checked that Ensor was still alive, then nodded. "The teleport stress was too much for him in his present condition. We will have to operate immediately."

Blake picked Ensor up. "If this Orac isn't as good as he claims, we've only hastened his death." He strode off, carrying his burden effortlessly.

Cally paused long enough to tuck the small packet of drugs into Orac's case, then she picked up the computer which weighed much more than it seemed- unlike its master. She followed Blake as quickly as she could, knowing six lives depended on her.

***

"I still don't see why I can't return to my laboratory." Ensor's operation had been very successful. Perhaps a little too successful. He felt so well in comparison to his previous condition that he had a tendency to overdo, which returned him to the medical unit in the bed beside his son. Where he complained bitterly of boredom and tested even the philosophic Auron's patience until Gan took pity on Cally and volunteered to sit with the impatient patient.

"You know it wouldn't be safe, Ensor," Gan reminded the scientist. He moved his pawn and Ensor shook his head and made 'tch, tch' noises. "If the Federation planted that bomb on your son's ship, they would have waited until they knew its destination before they triggered it. By now Aristo is probably swarming with guards."

"It's just I left in such a hurry, you see."

"Did you leave behind important notes or equipment?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that. Once I developed Orac, I didn't have to bother with that nonsense. He is quite capable of carrying out all my experiments and theories. Orac is remarkable, you know."

Gan nodded, but kept his private opinion on the computer to himself. Ensor was the only one the machine gave any respect. He'd even seen Avon eying it while idly flipping a laser probe and muttering about a complete overhaul- without anesthesia.

"It's my plants. And my fish." Ensor sighed. "I was quite fond of them."

Gan was sympathetic, but realistic. "Still, look on the bright side. Orac has found you a very nice new planet where the Federation never goes, but the natives are friendly. After thirty years in isolation, the change will do you good."

"Doubt it." Ensor looked over to his son. "Wouldn't have agreed to it at all except for Alin. I've taught him everything I know, and he needs more training. He has a fine mind, Gan. If he just learns to apply himself, he'll do great things."

From his own bed, Alin looked at his father, but said nothing. He was still suspicious of the Liberator's crew. Even Blake's promise to let them select their own gems from the treasure room to pay for Orac hadn't soothed him. He'd spent his life protecting his unworldly father from a hostile universe. He'd learned to fly their old SpaceMaster when he was barely a teen and quickly took over the task of acquiring supplies and keeping the two of them alive. Ensor never had any idea where the necessities came from, never even wondered. Suspicion was a large part of the reason Alin had always returned home and he wasn't ready to take anyone on trust. After all, Ensor could build more Oracs easily, which made the scientist as valuable as his invention. Why was Blake letting them go at all, far less giving them a fortune for what he could simply take? It wasn't human nature- at least not the kind he'd learned while scrounging in dirty spaceports on the rim worlds. If Blake would show a few faults, then maybe Alin could understand him.

"Take your hands off me, I am perfectly capable of finding my own way!" Avon's voice came from the suddenly open door leading to the main corridor. Alin stiffened. He didn't like Avon either, although for different reasons. Avon was openly hostile, to everyone. Alin had seen him say, to Blake's face, that he was a generous fool and one day Avon would have his ship because of Blake's stupidity. Blake had laughed. Why? In the three days Alin had been on this ship, Avon had fought with Blake constantly. Blake got angry with him, yes, but still allowed him liberties that would have made any other captain invite Avon to step outside -without a space suit. Alin would be glad to leave this ship for the planet Morete, even if the Federation had laid a trap for him and his father there. He had a chance of out-thinking them- he understood their motives.

Blake was close behind Avon, his hand dropping as though he had just released the other man. "Yes, and you're perfectly capable of ignoring the situation until I have to scrape you up off the deck. Let Cally sort you out."

"Is that an order?" Avon snapped.

Blake sighed and ran a hand through his tousled curls. "No, dammit. Consider it a personal favor to me. Despite what you think, I don't enjoy ordering people about."

"Even when it's for their own good? That is your usual rationale, isn't it?" 

Drawn by the argument, Cally came from the medical unit's supply room. She wanted to make certain there were no more unexpected gaps in the inventory-as in the case of the anti-radiation drugs. "Blake, Avon. Is something wrong?"

"Nothing of consequence," Avon said. Blake gave him a reproachful look. Avon sighed. "I seem to be experiencing some side-effects from the anti-radiation treatment. I have assured Blake that it is nothing to be concerned about, but he insists on a full-scale invasion of my person, in the form of a complete medical examination."

Cally turned to the vacant examination table beside her and patted the surface. "Blake is only showing good common sense, Avon. And concern for your well-being."

Reluctantly, Avon laid down on the table and allowed Cally to attach the varied probes and sensors. "He just likes to annoy me."

Blake stood at the head of Avon's table, safely out of his vision where he could permit himself an indulgent grin. Sometimes Avon acted like a petulant child. Spoiled brat, actually.

Alin had been sitting up, silently watching the whole performance. He nodded to himself. Now he could relax, for he'd finally found a human weakness of Blake's. He lay back, smiling.

Avon didn't care for the probes, strongly disliked having Cally fiddling with his anatomy and especially hated having an audience during the process. He turned aside and glared at Alin, who was smirking at him. "And what do you find so amusing?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at your lover's spat," Alin said, watching Blake for a reaction. It was everything he could have hoped. "Avon is the lover you mentioned, isn't he, Blake?"

"What?" Avon turned to share his indignant response with Blake. Only Blake wasn't indignant, or resentful. The big rebel was positively blushing. "Blake? Tell Alin how ridiculous his remark was."

Blake cleared his throat. "Avon and I are not lovers."

"And neither of us is interested in men," Avon added, feeling a certain lack of vehemence in Blake's answer. "Right, Blake? Blake? Blake!"

Blake lifted his gaze slowly to meet Avon's eyes. "I should be on the flight deck, Avon. We're getting close to Morete. Jenna will want to know where we're going from there." He left without another word.

Alin laughed. Avon sat up abruptly, ripping off the sensors and probes, scattering the leads. "That bastard. That bloody, manipulative, scheming bastard. This is too damn much." He shook Cally off and left, heading in the opposite direction from the flight deck. He didn't want to be anywhere near Blake.

"What do we do now, Cally?" Gan asked. "Avon looked like he wanted to kill Blake."

"No, I'm sure Avon wouldn't do anything violent," Cally said, but she didn't sound as sure as Gan would have liked. "It was just a shock, discovering how Blake feels about him."

"Do you really think Blake is attracted to Avon? Maybe he was just embarrassed."

"No, Gan. I'm afraid he really is in love with Avon."

"Poor Blake," Gan said, shaking his head.

Ensor looked at Alin. "That was not a wise thing to do, my boy. No, not a bit wise. Stir up a hornet's nest, that would have been better."

***

Jenna was surprised when Blake came onto the flight deck, striding rapidly, almost as if he were running away from something. "Is Avon that bad?" she asked, interpreting his disturbance as concern for an ill crewmember.

"I don't know. I suppose not. He didn't think it was anything serious. He didn't want to go to the medical unit. I wish I hadn't made him do it."

Jenna had never heard Blake babbling like Vila before. It alarmed her. "Blake, calm down. If Avon's not sick, then what's wrong?"

Blake stared at her. "I... I don't think I ought to talk to anyone until I've cleared this up with Avon. I am sorry, Jenna." He shook himself. "How long till we reach Morete?"

"Three hours. Of course Ensor and Alin may not be recovered enough to leave by then."

"I don't give a damn whether they're fit or not," Blake shouted. He calmed himself, seeing Jenna's shock. "Cally told me earlier they're strong enough for the teleport. If they need any further medical treatment, they'll have enough credits to buy the hospital." He stood. "I'm going to my cabin. Will you call me when we arrive?"

"Yes, of course, Blake," a bewildered Jenna said to his retreating back.

Cally escorted Alin to the treasure room to select Orac's price. She handed him a zippered rucksack, then left the room.

"Aren't you going to watch what I take?" he asked.

Cally looked back, her expression fierce. "Why? You've already done all the harm you can. If Avon leaves, it will take the heart out of Blake. If he stays, they'll tear each other apart. Collect your money. I'll be out in the corridor to take you and your father to the teleport when you've done."

 

Vila and Gan were at the teleport when Cally escorted Ensor and his son into the room. From the stunned look on Vila's face, Cally assumed that Gan had told him what had happened. She didn't think anyone had told Jenna yet. Oh. Poor Jenna. This was such a mess.

"Good bye, Ensor," Gan said politely. "Alin, I hope you enjoy your new life on Morete."

"We'll do our best," Ensor said. "If Orac gives you any trouble, call me. Yes, please do. I'd like to help get rid of the Federation."

Vila frowned. "We may not be in the rebellion business much longer. Just as well, I'd rather be stealing things I can sell, anyway."

Over the communicator, Jenna said, "All the arrangements are made. They can teleport down to the hospital any time they like."

"We'll go now," Alin said. He shook his head. "I'm sorry. For thirty years I've treated everyone as an enemy. It was the only way I knew how to live. I never meant to hurt anyone."

"But you did," Cally said. "And we will have to live with the consequences of your actions." She was not in a forgiving mood, not with her friends so badly hurt, for so little cause.

"Teleport, Gan," she said.

"All right, Blake," Jenna said. She'd called him when they arrived at their destination. He came to the flight deck and sat, brooding, until Cally reported that Alin and his father were deposited safely on the planet. "They're gone. We've got the computer. We're recovering from the radiation. What's bothering you?"

Blake gnawed on a thumb, then said, "I had wanted to talk to Avon first, Jenna, but he's locked in his cabin. He won't even answer the intercom."

"Fine." Jenna threw her hands up into the air. "Avon's sulking and you're upset about it. Honestly, Blake, you let Avon's moods affect you too much."

"I can't help it, Jenna." Blake took a deep breath. "I love him."

"You should just... What? No, don't tell me, the radiation has affected my hearing. I'd better ask Cally to give me a check-up."

"That's how it came out," Blake continued doggedly. "I took Avon to the medical unit, and somehow Alin guessed. I should have done a better job of denying it, but- I don't know, maybe subconsciously I wanted it out in the open."

"You- you and Avon?" Suddenly, Jenna was angry. "And you let me make a fool of myself, throwing myself at you, and all the while you were sleeping with that cold-hearted bitch!"

"No! We never- Avon wouldn't- Dammit, Jenna, I love him, and he hates me. What good would it have done any of us if I had told you that?" Blake buried his face in his hands, clutching desperately at his hair. "I've loved him for so long, and I never laid a finger on him. I promised myself I'd just be his friend, but he wouldn't even allow that. And now I can't even talk to him." He began to cry, deep-throated, chest-heaving, sobs.

"Shit! Don't do that, Blake." Jenna was at a loss. She came to the couch and sat next to Blake, pulling the shaggy head to rest on her breast, while she patted him on the back. "If you love the little... Avon, that much, we'll figure something out."

***

"Are you out of your mind, Jenna?" Vila's shriek made the others wince. "Do you want us all dead?"

"Listen, Blake is miserable. Right now, all he wants is to talk to Avon. I don't think that's too much, do you?"

"The point's not what I think. It's what Avon thinks," Vila replied wisely. He turned to the other two present at the impromptu meeting in the rest room. "Cally, you and Gan were there. How did Avon take the news?"

"Not well," Cally said.

Gan sighed deeply. "He was very angry at Blake. He said Blake was manipulative and scheming."

"Wait a minute. Manipulative and scheming?" Jenna grinned. "You know, that sounds as if Avon thought Blake was using his own feelings against him. Which must mean there are some."

Cally said, "Not necessarily, he always thinks Blake is manipulating him."

"No, no, Jenna's right," Vila said. "If you really don't care about someone, they can't use you. Nine times out of ten it's your friends who do you dirty because you're vulnerable to them."

"Thank you for that insight, Doctor Restal." Jenna stood. "I've made my mind up. Blake's on the flight deck now pretending to be on watch. I'm going to get him into Avon's room and make sure he stays there long enough for them to settle their differences. You," she said, pointing at Gan, "are going to help me and Cally get Blake to Avon's room. Vila is going to open the door and after we get Blake inside, Vila will make sure they can't get out until we let them out."

"I don't know," Gan said uneasily. "Is this really a good idea?"

"Probably not," Jenna remarked on her way out the door. "But until a better one comes along, this is it."

Blake was still sitting on the flight deck couch when he heard his crew come in. He didn't bother to look up. Avon wouldn't be there. He knew he should just shrug off his feeling of loss and get on with his life - after all, it wasn't as if he'd lost anything he ever really had. Avon never liked him. They always fought over the most ridiculous things.

He had enjoyed even the fights. Clashing wits and wills with Avon was perversely satisfying- an intimacy of minds. Now Avon was so disgusted by him, he wouldn't even talk to him. Blake had never been ashamed of his preference for males before, not until he saw the horror on Avon's face as if Blake was a monster, an unclean abomination. He was still sick, thinking of it.

"Blake?"

Cally's gentle voice, soft and sympathetic. Blake didn't want sympathy, hadn't wanted to weep all over Jenna, all he wanted was what he couldn't have. He balled up a fist and struck the couch cushion. "Go away, please. I'm tired. I'll be better in a little while."

"No, you won't." This time it was Jenna. No nonsense, purely practical, Jenna. "You've got to face him, Blake."

"No!" Blake surged up off the couch, panic and anger combining to give him the strength to face his crew. He was mildly surprised to see Vila and Gan with the two women. "He doesn't want to see me and I can't bear to see him."

"But you love him." Vila had been surprised by the recent turn of events, but he did know what was important. "You can't just let him go, without even trying. That's not like you, Blake."

Blake shook his head. "I won't make it any harder for Avon. Let him decide what he wants to do, by himself."

"No," Gan said simply. Blake looked at him in surprise. "The Federation took my woman from me, Blake, but at least I fought for her. You have to fight for Avon."

"No." Blake turned away. "I'll not force him to do anything."

"Well, then that's it. We tried," Jenna said, and Blake began to relax, thinking they were going to leave him alone. Large hands grabbed him from behind, holding him immobile. Startled, he kicked, but was lifted from the deck, feet swinging harmlessly.

"What the hell?" Blake twisted, but was unable to avoid Cally's hand, coming at him with a drug pad. "No!" he shouted just before passing out.

"You know, Blake is gonna be pretty peeved later," Vila said, looking at the rebel leader slumped in Gan's arms. Even unconscious, there was a frown on Blake's face.

"Maybe, and maybe not," Jenna said. "Come on, let's get this over with." She led the way to Avon's quarters.

 

"Um. Shouldn't we knock or something first?" Vila hesitated, nervously fingering his lockpick.

"No." Jenna wasn't taking any excuses. She'd always felt protective of Blake, and if Avon was what Blake needed to be happy, he was going to get the chance to argue his case. If there was the faintest possibility of it, she'd bet on Blake getting Avon to stay on the ship. She wasn't quite great-hearted enough to think about what else might happen.

"Blake's getting heavy, Vila," Gan commented.

"All right, all right." With his crewmates breathing down his neck, Vila was motivated to open the lock with a minimum of fuss. Not bothering with his usual flourishes, he forced the lock. The door opened, revealing the surprised, rapidly turning angry, face of Kerr Avon, who was lying on his bed, fully dressed and with a small pack, zippers bulging, lying at his feet.

"Leaving us?" Jenna asked.

"Now that you mention it, yes." Avon sat up. "What is this circus act in aid of?" he asked, gesturing at Blake, balanced over Gan's shoulder.

"It's in aid of Blake. He wants to talk to you."

"Yes, I can see he's eager for the confrontation."

"Please, Avon," Cally stepped forward, hands spread. "Don't be cruel to Blake. He does love you."

Avon's face twisted. "I am being kind to him, by leaving. Now, kindly get out of my way." He picked up the case and started toward the door.

"No." Jenna held a gun aimed at Avon's mid-section.

"Jealousy doesn't become you," Avon remarked.

Jenna's finger went white on the trigger, but stopped just short of firing. "Catty remarks, on the other hand, are just your style. I don't know what Blake sees in you, but you're going to listen while he tells you. Gan, put Blake down."

Gently, the large man lowered Blake to the deck inside Avon's cabin. Avon's eyes flickered down to Blake- for an instant he appeared concerned, then his gaze hardened again. "I don't know what you expect to get out of this farce."

"We only want you two to talk, that's all." Cally stripped the medical pad off Blake's forehead and stepped back outside the door. "If you must part, at least let it be with understanding."

The door shut just as Blake's eyes opened. He looked at Avon and groaned.

"My sentiments exactly. Excuse me." Avon stepped over Blake's body and tested the door. "Sealed. That moron Vila, no doubt." He returned to his bed and sat down. "Your crew is composed entirely of imbeciles, Blake. I'll be well shut of the lot of you."

 

"That's that." Jenna firmly pressed the button, silencing the ship's internal communications system. "We're agreed, then? No one lets them out or even listens to them for eight hours. By that time, Blake should have finished."

"Or Avon will have finished Blake," Vila said, predicting disaster. Jenna glared at him.

 

"Marvelous. Absolutely wonderful." Avon marched up and down the confines of the cabin, having assured himself that there was no way out. He couldn't even access the intercom. It would have been much more stress-relieving to vent his anger on Jenna than Blake. All Blake did was sit on the floor, knees up to his chin, arms around his knees, saying nothing, doing nothing.

"You may as well stop pacing," Blake finally remarked. "We can't do anything except wait until they decide to let us out."

"And when they do, Blake, I'm out of here. Out of here. Out of this ship. And out of your rebellion."

"Out of my life, you mean." Blake barely lifted his head to speak. "It isn't necessary, you know, Avon. If it hadn't been for Alin, you would never have known. I never did anything offensive to you, did I?"

Avon laughed. "Oh, Blake, everything you have done has offended me, from the day we met." Abruptly, he stopped pacing and returned to the bed. "Not sexually, I admit. You were very good at hiding that. If you had hidden your plans from the Federation half as well, you need never have been caught."

"But then I should never have met you."

Avon looked up. "Don't try to charm me, Blake. You have absolutely nothing to offer me."

"Oh." Blake straightened. Gan was right. If you really wanted something, you had to fight for it. "What about Orac?"

"Ensor's toy." Avon dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

"Ensor was telling me about it, Avon. It can access any computer containing Tarriel Cells. Any computer, at any distance."

Avon was tempted, Blake could see it. "That might be useful, but I could get along quite well without it."

"It can predict the future, Ensor says."

"Nonsense. If it could do that, then why would Ensor's son have nearly died of a bomb planted on his ship by the Federation? I could have told them that would be the likely result of bargaining with the Federation."

"I imagine Ensor didn't think to ask it. You would have. I could use you to handle Orac. You understand computers better than any of us ever will. He'd be incredibly useful."

"It," Avon corrected idly. "Computers do not come in male and female, despite their programmers' affectations."

"Still, you can't deny you would get more from Orac than any of us."

"Certainly I would. But what good would it do me? I would be merely aiding your Cause. You look down on such personal weaknesses as a desire for wealth. Although I now see you are not above a few personal weaknesses yourself."

"Avon, if you stay, I swear it will be on your terms. Everything as it was before."

"Do you think that's an attractive offer? I have been acutely miserable on this ship. I stayed because the Liberator is the single most valuable object I have ever encountered. Greed, pure and simple greed, made me stay. It took a lot, but you finally managed to counterbalance that."

"And is that the only reason you stayed?"

"Why else?" Avon turned his head aside. "I am tired of arguing, Blake. Let me alone, will you?"

"All right." Perhaps if he waited, without pushing the issue, Avon would think about it, and change his mind about leaving. 

Blake settled on the hard deck and tried to get comfortable. Without the distraction of talking to Avon, he realized his tailbone was going numb. There was a perfectly good chair by the desk. Since Avon had claimed the bed, Blake saw no harm in taking the chair. He'd stiffened, sitting on the floor, and made quite a bit of noise, grunting and oofing, in climbing to his feet. He turned to Avon, expecting some remark about his clumsiness, or a complaint about the noise. Avon was silent. His head moved and then he curled onto his side. He must have been exhausted, to have fallen asleep so quickly. Unable to resist what might be his last opportunity to study Avon's face, Avon's unguarded, peaceful face, Blake moved forward as quietly as he could. If Avon woke to see Blake standing over him, staring at him, that would be horrible. But he had to take the chance. Ah. Avon rolled back, and Blake could see- could see Avon's eyes, open and staring back at him, without reacting.

"Avon?" Blake moved closer. Avon didn't look right. His face was pale, far too pale for even a high-bred, sheltered, spoiled Alpha. Greatly daring, Blake touched Avon's cheek, then drew back, startled. The flesh was cold, cold and clammy. "Avon!" Blake grasped the other man's head firmly between his hands. "Wake up, Avon!" The only response was an incoherent whimper, and Avon's hands batting softly at his own.

"No." Blake went to the intercom and pounded on it. "Jenna, Cally, this has gone on far enough. Avon's sick. Come and get us out. Vila, Gan? Come on, come on."

"No use." Avon's voice was a whisper.

Blake was back at the bed with no memory of covering the intervening distance. "Avon? You're ill." When Avon didn't comment on the obvious remark, Blake really began to worry.

"Intercom's off. At their end. No one's listening. No one ever listens." Abruptly, Avon was crying. The tears streamed down his face, while Blake, appalled, tried to wipe them away.

"Shh, Avon. It will be all right. I'll make it all right."

The tears stopped as if by a switch. Avon shivered. "Will you?" His voice was stripped of all its suspicion and cynicism.

I'll do my best, Avon." Blake moved onto the bed, pulling Avon into his arms. He yanked free the coverlet to wrap around Avon. "Rest."

"Can't. Can't ever rest. Too much to do. Always somebody wanting me to do something. Anna, Anna, wait for me. I'll do it, Anna, I'll get the money and then we can go away together. Together. Safe. No one will be able to touch us, ever again." Avon's voice was a soft croon now, a lover's voice, the one register Blake had never thought to hear from him. Avon's hands were reaching out, seeking his lost lover, his Anna.

Blake caught the hands, held them quiet. In his present condition, Avon couldn't tell who was with him and accepted Blake's presence gratefully. He turned wide, over-bright eyes on Blake and smiled. "Are we safe, Anna?"

"Yes, Avon. You're safe, your Anna is safe." Blake began rocking Avon slowly.

"Good. Safe." Avon's eyes shut, then he frowned and opened them again. "Is Blake safe?" he asked.

Blake's heart leaped. He controlled himself. "Yes, Blake is safe, too."

"Good." Avon's eyes drooped again. "Nuisance, but still..." He fell asleep, shivering constantly, a fine tremor shaking his limbs.

Blake lowered Avon to the bed. They couldn't get out. He didn't know how long the crew intended to keep them locked up, and he didn't know how serious Avon's condition was. He had to keep Avon warm and quiet. He rummaged in Avon's closet, coming up with polo shirts and jackets, vests and tunics, trousers and boots, but no extra blankets, or even a thermal suit. He returned with the warmest garments he could find and redressed the limp body in them. Despite the shivering, Avon was sweating heavily and had soaked his original clothes. If this kept up, he'd dehydrate. Blake investigated the lavatory. Avon had the usual hygiene supplies, but no medicines. Apparently, he got what he needed when he needed it, and kept nothing lying about afterward. A prudent habit if you have children who might accidentally get into the cabinets, but no help now. He brought a pitcher of water and a glass to Avon's bedside. 

He roused Avon, holding his head up until the tech awoke enough to swallow on his own. Avon accepted a few sips, then looked at Blake with suspicion, abruptly clear-eyed and rational. "What's been happening?"

"You've been ill. Here, drink some more."

Avon pushed the glass away. "I neither asked for, nor do I require, a nurse. Go away. I'll be all right."

"Don't push yourself. It came as suddenly as it went. It might come again."

"And it might not." Avon caught sight of his arm clad in a dark grey pullover. He'd been wearing blue when he lay down. He frowned. "How did..."

"Your clothes were soaked." Blake indicated the sodden pile lying on the deck. "You were severely chilled. I couldn't leave you like that."

"Yes, you could. Did you enjoy it, Blake? Undressing my unconscious body, I mean?"

Blake was taken aback. "If you want the truth Avon, I didn't even look at you. I was concentrating on keeping you alive."

"Is that all you were thinking about?" Avon stared at Blake's groin.

Appalled, Blake realized that somewhere along the line, his body had interpreted the situation as erotic. "I'm sorry, but you must know I hadn't intended this." He turned aside.

"Oh, I believe you. You never do plan anything. Everything just happens to you." He sounded more amused than anything else. "Why don't you go into the lavatory and take care of yourself. That condition must be painful."

"It doesn't matter. It'll go away after a while. It always does."

"Well, yes, of course, but why wait and suffer? Do you enjoy being a martyr?" Avon stretched and sighed. "I am myself again. You may leave me without worry, at least long enough for your little mission."

Blake shook his head. "It doesn't work."

"Really?" Avon leaned forward to stare rudely at Blake's crotch. The leap and twitch of eager flesh was clearly visible even under the heavy trousers. "It seems fully functional from here."

"All right, you want it spelled out." Now Blake was angry. "The Federation mucked around in my mind, Avon. They weren't particularly careful, or else someone thought it would be funny, but I can't masturbate. It doesn't work. If I touch myself when I'm aroused, it just hurts like hell."

"And if someone else touches you?" Avon asked, interested despite himself in the problem. He never could resist a problem to be solved.

"If anyone else touches me, that's it, no erection, no ejaculation, no relief. I don't even have proper wet dreams."

"I begin to see why you are such a bear on the subject of the Federation. Does fighting them give you any relief?"

Blake grimaced. Avon obviously didn't care about him, and was merely passing the time, using Blake as he would a puzzle book while waiting for an overdue transport. Still, he wasn't berating or belittling him. "Sometimes. After a battle, if we've won, for a little while I can touch myself."

"Interesting. So winning a conflict is the answer. That's probably why you're attracted to me, then. Because we fight so much." Avon grinned. "Poor Jenna. If she wasn't so compliant to your every wish, she might have gotten hers."

"Leave Jenna out of it."

Avon raised an eyebrow at Blake's gruff tone.

"Look, I remember enough to know Jenna never had a chance with me, so you needn't think I can simply ask her to scream at me until I can get it up."

"All right. Vila, then. He'd do anything for the hero of the masses, I'm sure."

"I'm not interested in Vila. Or Gan. Or Alin. Or any other man I've encountered lately."

"With one exception."

"Yes." Blake got up and moved away from Avon. "Appalling though it is to you, you are the one and only object of my desire. There, are you happy?"

"I wouldn't exactly characterize my state of mind as happy, but I am interested. This might perhaps change matters. If your sexual obsession with me is a result of Federation mind-control techniques it may be possible to remove the compulsion. Orac should be able to find information on reversing the procedure."

"Maybe." Blake still sounded glum.

"What's the matter now? I've just given you hope for restoration of your sexuality. You act as if I've threatened to chop it off."

"Did it ever occur to you that my obsession with you might have nothing to do with conditioning? You are a good-looking man, intelligent, stimulating company, and ... in general, pretty much the sort I always fell head over heels in love with."

Avon was taken aback. He looked away from Blake. "And did this happen to you frequently?"

"On the average, once a year while I was young. Somehow, it was never right. After a while, I gave up looking for love and settled for sex. Until I met you. I don't want to lie to you, let you think I can be 'cured'. I'm not sick, Avon, I just love you. I love you so much just being around you has broken down part of the conditioning. You're the only one who can get a rise out of me." Blake gave him a grin. It was a weak and sickly thing.

"You do realize this is impossible," Avon said quietly. He now stared directly into Blake's eyes. "I admit that when I was young I preferred male sex partners. It was somewhat of an embarrassment for my family and I was... motivated to reform myself. The psychological sessions and 'treatments' were most unpleasant. I still react defensively to accusations of homosexuality. "

"And that's why Alin's remark upset you so."

"Only partly. It is obvious that you equate sexual attraction with love. After the follies of youth I fell in love with a woman." Avon's eyes went distant. "She ... died. That was all I care to experience of love. I refuse to be that vulnerable again. To anyone. And most particularly not to a man who will exploit any weakness for his Cause. "

"Avon, I'm not asking you for anything. I just ...don't want you to leave."

"I don't believe I could very well stay with matters as they are. Especially now that I know you are being driven into increasingly foolish risks by the pressure of unfulfilled needs. I should hate to die because you're thinking with your gonads instead of your brain." Avon paused. He'd never seen Blake so totally defeated. He imagined how Meegat's face would have looked if her 'god' had refused to help her. Probably very like Blake at this moment. Perhaps he could humor Blake- just a little. Blake's depression could endanger them- perhaps even get them all killed before Avon could locate a suitable bolt hole. He had another thought. It might still be possible to stay. If Blake could be given another outlet, Jenna and the others would leave Avon alone. He came to a decision and told Blake, "However, if you were able to relieve your physical frustrations, that might make life more bearable."

"I've just explained. I can't."

"You explained that you can't masturbate. You've also said that my mere presence has begun breaking down the barriers."

"What are you saying?"

"I am offering- this once- the opportunity for you to consummate your obsession. Carried out to its conclusion, the act may free you from the conditioning. If so, in future you will be able to 'handle' your problems yourself."

Blake stared at Avon. "You want to make love with me?"

Avon sighed. "As usual, you have misinterpreted my remarks. I am willing to participate in a sexual act with you, in order that I will not have to leave the Liberator. This appears the only feasible method, therefore it is the one I have suggested. Emotions have nothing to do with it. I still enjoy male-sex. So long as we are both agreed that sex is all it is."

"I don't know. I don't think I could." Blake pulled away from Avon. It sounded too much like hiring a prostitute, and the thought of treating Avon as a whore made Blake's stomach turn.

"I think you could." Avon reached forward and placed a bold hand on Blake's crotch.

Blake screamed and leapt from the bed, falling to his hands and knees, gasping for breath.

"Blake!" Avon was appalled. "What the hell!"

Blake curled up on the deck, moaning while Avon watched. After a moment, he drew a deep breath. "That... that's what happens if I try to masturbate. It never happened before when anyone else touched me, though."

"This would seem to end the experiment." Avon's voice was bleak. "I am sorry for you, Blake, but I will be leaving the ship as soon as possible."

"No, Avon. Give me a chance." Blake struggled to his feet. "There's one thing we haven't tried. Let me touch you."

"If you think it will make a difference." Avon steeled himself for a repetition of Blake's previous reaction. He watched as Blake moved closer, seated himself on the bed next to Avon, then drew a deep breath.

Despite the sudden shock, Blake was still fully erect and that alone made his voice shaky and his hands tremble. At least, that's what he told himself as he reached out to gingerly enfold Avon's shoulders. "So far, so good." It didn't hurt, but then he'd touched people before without harm. So long as it wasn't sexual, it didn't hurt. Avon was stiff in his arms, but not resisting. Blake stroked Avon's back, feeling the tension in the other man's muscles. He moved further down, until he was caressing Avon's buttocks, something his subconscious could not possibly interpret as a fraternal touch. It felt good. He sighed and moved closer, until their torsos nearly touched. He twisted until he could rub himself against Avon's hip. "Ah." Blake shut his eyes and clutched Avon tighter, repeating the motion, again and again, until Avon broke free.

Blake looked up. Avon had gotten up and was standing beside the bed, staring down at him with a peculiarly Avon non-expression. "Avon? Are you all right?" Blake wasn't sure, but he had the idea he'd been holding onto Avon in a deathgrip.

Avon grinned. "I begin to think this will work although I am not accustomed to being totally passive. It will be a novelty. However, for best results, disrobing is in order." Avon calmly took off his polo shirt. He paused when he noticed Blake was sitting motionless, staring at him. "Blake, we do not know when Jenna and the rest of her mutineers may decide to return so I suggest we don't waste time. I am not going to carry this out with witnesses."

Stung, Blake ripped off his own clothes, tossing them onto the deck, to display himself brazenly. Let Avon see what he was letting himself in for. He was rather proud of his attributes. Although he admitted he could be in better shape, the basic model was well designed.

Avon was neither impressed nor intimidated. "Enthusiasm is all very well," he commented, "but you've torn your shirt."

"I don't care about the bloody shirt, Avon! Come here!"

"In a moment." Avon turned on his heel and went into the lavatory. He wasn't gone long, returning nude and carrying a small jar which he set on the bedside table. "Judging by your shirt, you're not likely to take particular care with the niceties. Therefore I've already prepared myself." He lay belly down on the bed, casually arranging his hands beneath his chin, then turned his head, gazing at Blake sloe-eyed and seductive. "Well?"

Blake staggered as if he'd received a fist in the guts, then recovered. He had only a few steps to reach the bed, but his legs barely held out. He collapsed half on top of Avon, thrusting helplessly the instant he touched that smooth, warm body beneath him. Avon made an exasperated noise, but Blake was beyond hearing it. He was lost in his own world, eyes tight shut, arms clenched around his lover's chest, hips moving frantically. He hadn't entered Avon and was vaguely dissatisfied about that, but he couldn't take the time to correct his position. He kept grunting and thrusting for what seemed like forever.

"Clumsy ox," Avon grumbled. "Blake, you idiot." Avon's ribs were creaking from the pressure of Blake's arms. And he'd have bruises all over his back. This wasn't sex, this was like being caught in a harvesting machine with its governors blown. He had underestimated Blake's strength and his desperation. Unfortunately, while Blake worked up a great deal of friction, he didn't appear to be approaching orgasm. A heart attack seemed likely from the sound of him. Wouldn't that be a lovely thing to have to explain to Jenna? Hell. As usual, Avon was going to have to rescue Blake at considerable risk to himself. He braced himself, then pulled his legs up, drawing his knees beneath himself in the brief instant when Blake's weight lifted slightly. He squirmed, wriggling into position. He had a second to wonder whether he'd just committed suicide, then Blake entered him.

It hurt, but Blake seemed finally to realize he wasn't in this by himself. Partway in, the thrust slowed. Controlling himself must have nearly killed Blake. The grip around Avon's middle increased, then slackened. Blake muttered something which might have been 'Avon', then put his mouth to the side of Avon's neck. Avon froze, half expecting to be bitten, but Blake sucked instead. Hard. Well, Avon usually wore high-necked shirts anyway, so no one would notice the resulting mark. Blake's hands loosened and shifted, finding Avon's nipples and squeezing, not quite painfully. Blake was much calmer now that he was finally getting what he wanted. He pushed in slowly, and Avon gasped. Ox, nothing, Blake was a bull. Blake's rhythm grew smoother, pushing in further with each thrust. It was exciting Avon, feeling the hot, slick bulk of Blake's cock filling him. He groaned again, this time with pleasure, as his own penis began coming to life.

Blake noticed. The big hands abandoned Avon's chest to grasp the awakening organ, stroking exactly the way Avon liked best, firmly, just short of painful. "Yes," Avon said, encouraging Blake. He relaxed, settling into a complimentary motion to match Blake, rocking back as the big rebel thrust forward. Blake growled and squeezed harder. Apparently, he enjoyed that.

Avon had forgotten the reason they were doing this. He gave himself over to the pleasure Blake was giving him : Blake covering him, protecting him with his massive body, Blake's broad hands petting him, cherishing him, Blake's deep rich voice praising him, telling him how bloody fantastic Avon was, how perfect, how beautiful. Avon had seldom had a more appreciative lover, and never one who so excited him. Blake mastered him, took him so thoroughly that Avon felt he and Blake were one creature. Blake's thrusts now buried him in Avon to the hilt, each movement of that bulging cock driving Avon wild, the meaty slap of Blake's heavy balls against Avon's maddening him. It was too much. He rose suddenly, fighting Blake's weight on his back as his orgasm hit, blazing, burning everything away. He shouted fiercely, jetting his semen through Blake's controlling fingers, then fell forward, exhausted.

Blake followed him down, gripping Avon's thighs, then spread them further as he continued to ride his lover. He lay forward, trapping the other man against the bed as his hips pounded, driving him on and on.

"Blake?" Avon whispered. He moved feebly, a trembling arm going up to feel one of the sweaty, thick-muscled arms encircling him under the armpits. Blake was shaking, too. This couldn't go on much longer. Blake had been fully erect, painfully hard, long before they even started. He should have climaxed long ago. What was wrong? Avon squirmed, but couldn't move. "Blake?" Without his own blood pounding in his ears, he could hear what Blake was saying now. It was a constant low-voiced litany. He doubted Blake heard it himself.

"Avon. Love me. Avon," Blake repeated, over and over as he thrust.

Avon debated for a moment whether it would be wise to say the words Blake craved. Of course, if he didn't, Blake might very well kill the two of them. Even Vila, who professed to want to die in bed, might have second thoughts along about this time. "Blake, Blake, listen to me, Blake," Avon drew a deep breath. He despised lying and tried very hard to avoid it, but in this case... "Blake, I love you."

The pounding stopped. Quickly, Avon repeated himself, "Blake, I love you." Blake groaned and thrust once more, grinding himself against Avon as he came. Then Blake collapsed, limp upon Avon.

Avon made a few attempts to move out from under the bulk of the other man, then surrendered. Blake was too damn heavy. He would have called it dead weight, but he could feel the strong heartbeat vibrating through him everywhere Blake touched him, especially in the firm cock still nestled inside him. Blake moved unexpectedly, pulling out. "Ow!"

"Avon? Are you all right?"

"Get. Off. Me."

"Yes, of course."

Blake was still clumsy, but he managed to move aside sufficiently for Avon to sit up. Avon didn't really think that was a wise move just yet, so he didn't make the attempt. Then he felt Blake's hands on his backside, and reacted instinctively, turning over and glaring.

"Haven't you had enough for the moment?"

"I just wanted to see if you're hurt." Blake wouldn't quite meet Avon's eyes, which really annoyed the computer tech.

"And what would it matter if I were?"

"Avon!" Blake said, appalled. "You know I love you. I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well, you have," Avon snapped, as his various bruises made their presence known.

"Please. Let me see how bad it is."

"No." Avon pulled the covers over himself and turned his back on Blake. "You've used up your quota of intimacy. And then some."

"Avon. Are you really hurt?"

The worry in Blake's voice was honest. Avon sighed. "No, I don't think so. In any case, we haven't any medical supplies so there really isn't anything to do until we're released."

"I am sorry, Avon."

"I'm not. Unless, of course, this didn't work. Then I will be very sorry." Avon couldn't see, but he heard Blake moving, apparently testing his response to his own touch on his partially erect penis.

Blake gave a sigh of relief. "It worked, Avon."

"Fine. Go take a shower, why don't you? I'll have mine later." Avon pulled the coverlet over his head and pretended to sleep. He had no intention of talking to Blake until he had decided what he wanted to say.

"One thing, Avon." Blake waited a moment for an acknowledgement, then forged on, "Does this mean you'll stay?"

After a long silence, Avon answered, "I don't know. I need to think about it."

"Avon..."

"Shut up!"

"All right, Avon. But you know you can talk to me whenever you like." The silence from the huddled figure on the bed was stifling. Blake went to take his shower.

When the sound of his footsteps faded, Avon turned, staring at the lavatory door.

Blake stood in the shower, motionless, staring down at his penis. It was still sensitive, and reacted to the warm water and his hands as he soaped, washing away the lubricant, all the other traces of their love-making. Love. That was the problem. Avon had agreed to a simple mechanical exchange of bodily fluids, quickly done and meaningless. But he'd heard Blake say he loved him and he'd said he loved Blake. Whether Avon meant it or not was another matter, still he'd said it. Words once said acquire power and reality. And that had to be raising all sorts of doubts in that cold, calculating mind Blake had come to appreciate.

He shook his head, sending soapy water flying. One thing was certain, they wouldn't be able to go back to the way they had been. Even if Blake and Avon could live with the pretense that this night had never happened, the others knew he loved Avon. Falling in love with his second in command wasn't the sort of thing a rebel leader could afford to do. But he had. And now he had to deal with the consequences of his actions. And with Avon. Avon who had loved a woman named Anna enough to carry out the embezzlement that got him sentenced to a penal planet, and ultimately, to life aboard a rebel ship. If not for Anna, Blake would never have met Avon. He wasn't sure whether or not to be grateful to her. He was sure that if he mentioned her name, Avon would definitely leave.

Avon was arrogant, snobbish, even elitist. Why should Blake care for someone so selfish? Because that wasn't all he was. Avon was also brave, clever, kind to the helpless, and his apparent adherence to class distinction had not stopped him from becoming friends with Vila. Odd friends, true, constantly sniping at one another, but he'd seen Avon laughing with Vila, as well as at him, and he seemed to enjoy it when Vila got in a good one against him.

And then there was the minor, totally unimportant, fact that Avon was beautiful. And he was also damn good in bed. Shit. Blake turned the shower to cold, and faced into it.

 

Blake returned quietly, and gathered his scattered clothes. He was dressed and sitting in the chair by the desk before Avon moved. He had been lying too stiffly still to be asleep and Blake had wondered how long he would keep up the pretense.

Avon got up, and wrapped the coverlet about himself. He moved slowly toward the lavatory, glaring at Blake when the other made an abortive move toward him. He said nothing, and locked the lavatory door behind him with a decisive 'click'.

Once Avon had gone, Blake got up and examined the bed. There was some blood, but mercifully only a few drops. Avon was probably not in any danger. That was something, anyway. If he'd really hurt Avon... no he wasn't going to have to think about that. He returned to his chair, and his vigil, not wanting to upset Avon with his concern.

 

The shower wasn't hot enough, the soap wasn't strong enough, to wash away the feel of Blake, the scent of him. Avon scrubbed until his bruises ached, and still he had the scent of Blake in his nostrils. There was no getting rid of Blake. Blake was going to hover around Avon, with that lovesick, hopeless, longing in his large, puppy-dog eyes, until Avon either gave in unconditionally, or killed the man. Killing seemed a bit excessive. But not when you consider that Blake didn't just want Avon's body. He demanded his very soul, had demanded it even before he asked for Avon's body.

Avon could leave. But would that really accomplish anything? Anna was dead and she still haunted his dreams, his waking nightmares on lonely nights. Should he leave and chance adding a sad-eyed rebel to his regrets?

He leaned against the wall of the shower for a long time. Eventually, he was going to have to face Blake. Out of fairness, he should be as honest about his feelings as Blake had been. Only he didn't know how he felt. There was a large, confusing swirl of emotion inside him, but it had no neat labels. Love. What did it mean anyway? That you found someone sexually desirable? That you were mentally and physically compatible? He remembered snatches of an ancient bonding ceremony- something about remaining with one's mate, despite adversity, until death.

If he remained with Blake, there'd be death, all right. Blake thought they were invulnerable, unstoppable. Avon knew better. Up to now, they'd been incredibly lucky, but Blake's luck wouldn't last forever. Avon's mouth turned sour. He didn't want to be there the day fate caught up with Blake. The man was an innocent. He believed that justice would prevail, that good would defeat evil. In reality, evil generally won, because it was free to use tactics good could not- not without becoming evil itself. The day Blake learned that lesson would be worse. Either he would be broken by defeat, or he would become his own enemy in order to win a pointless victory.

He needed Avon, needed a clear-headed cynic to keep his woolly-minded ethics from destroying him. That was the hardest thing to ignore. Avon hadn't been needed very many times, and when he'd been needed most, he failed. Should he stay and let Blake grow to rely on him or should he leave, feeling that he'd betrayed Blake? The one thing Avon had left was his honor. He prided himself on never having betrayed a trust, or lied to a friend. Of course, he'd already lied to Blake, hadn't he, when he said he loved him? Or had he lied? He couldn't tell what he felt about Blake. Sometimes he felt protective, other times he wanted nothing more than to knock out a few of Blake's teeth.

He shook his head. He was too tired to think. He finished his shower and wrapped a towel around his hips. The outer room was dim, Blake must have turned down the lights. That made it easier for him to return his bed, which Blake had had the good sense not to attempt to straighten. There was a large, silent bulk sitting in the chair by the desk. He ignored it. The bed smelled of Blake. He ignored that too and lay down, determined to rest. One way or the other, the next day was going to be strenuous.

 

Avon snored. Blake had wondered if he did. Anatomically, it had seemed likely, but it was such a human thing to do that he'd not been able to connect it with Avon. Not Avon the fastidious, Avon the perfectionist. It wasn't a terribly loud snore. Blake found it rather comforting. Otherwise, he would have been moved to get up every few minutes and check on Avon. He didn't intend to sleep, but soothed by the steady buzz of Avon's breathing, he soon slumped heavily in the chair.

 

Blake lifted his head. From the lethargy of his body and soreness in his back, he must have been sleeping in the chair for hours. For a moment he was angry that Jenna had still not come back to let him out, then he was glad. For this might be all he had left of Avon. He looked over to the bed, and abruptly realized why he had awakened. Avon's breathing had changed from the steady snoring to heavy panting, interspersed with an occasional quiet whimper.

Avon was ill again. Blake rose and ordered the lights partway up. Avon winced and moved his head aside from the dim illumination. He was glossy with sweat, hair curled in wet tendrils along his face. His eyes were black pits, confused and frightened.

"It's all right, Avon," Blake soothed. "They'll come soon." They must, he thought. Avon is worse than the last time. He brushed back the hair from Avon's eyes, feeling the chill of Avon's forehead as he did.

"They?" Avon sounded frightened. He reached up to clutch at Blake's forearm. "I won't let them get you. No. Not this time. Not you too."

"Avon, no one's after us. You're safe. Here on the Liberator, with me, Blake." He shook Avon slightly.

"Blake?"

For a moment, Blake thought that Avon had understood him.

"There isn't any safe place. They got Anna. Anna. I left her in a safe place." He turned his face to Blake, appealing. "I thought it was safe, or I wouldn't have gone. You don't think I let her die in my place, do you, Blake?"

"No, of course not." Blake hugged Avon tightly, pulling the chilled body back against his chest. He rubbed Avon's back. "I know you loved her."

"Doesn't mean anything." Avon shivered violently, teeth chattering. "People die when I love them, Blake. So I can't love you. Don't ask me to, please, don't make me love you." He ducked his head and wrapped his arms around Blake. "It hurts too much. Better to be alone."

"No, it isn't better." Softly, slowly, Blake kissed Avon. Nothing of passion in it, and everything of love. "This is better."

Avon clung, but shook his head. "Only if it's forever, Blake. Anything less and it isn't real."

"It's real, Avon. And I want it to be forever." Blake got up, still cradling Avon. "But you won't even remember this, will you?" he said sadly. "Come, we've got to get you warm."

"Kiss me, then." Avon lifted his head, demanding.

Blake chuckled and obliged, for a second. "Can you walk? We need to get you into the shower."

"Sounds like fun." Avon was compliant, but weak. Blake wound his right arm around Avon's waist and put Avon's left arm around Blake's neck, holding on to the wrist. "Up you get."

Blake considered removing his own clothes, but he didn't want to take the time. He had no idea how long Avon had lain shivering in the bed. Besides, if he kept his own clothes on, it would be easier to keep his mind on business. Having a seductive, sweetly aggressive Avon entwined with one made rational thought difficult. So they stepped into the warm shower together. For several minutes, Blake simply supported Avon, waiting for the shivering to stop.

"Blake?"

Avon still sounded lost, so Blake replied as gently as before, "Yes, love?"

"Do you really love me?"

"More than anything."

"Then get the hell off my foot."

"What?" Blake stepped back, startled.

"This is getting ridiculous," Avon muttered. "Are you going to share all my showers from now on?" He closed his eyes and turned his back on Blake, leaning into the full force of the water. He didn't sound angry.

Blake grinned. "It's your own fault, you know."

Avon turned, frowning. Blake smiled broader, and Avon turned away again. "In what way?"

"If you'd let Cally finish the examination, she probably could have prevented all this."

"I doubt it. There is a certain inexorable quality to you, Blake. You won't let me be, will you?"

"Only if I thought you'd be happier that way. You don't really like being alone, Avon. No one does. Even if you learn to live with it, that doesn't make it right. Doesn't make you happy." Greatly daring, he nuzzled the back of Avon's neck.

"Why should I be happy? For that matter, why should you be happy?"

"Why shouldn't we?" Blake kissed along Avon's neck, brushing hair out of his way. "It doesn't take all that much to make me happy, Avon. What do you need?"

"The _Liberator_. The contents of the treasure room. Not to be hunted by the Federation while I spend the contents of the treasure room," Avon replied promptly.

"I didn't ask what you thought you wanted," Blake rebuked, while his hands smoothed along Avon's shoulders. "I asked what you needed."

There was a long silence, then Avon replied, "I don't know. How does anyone know?"

"I know. I know because you need the same thing I do. You need me, Avon, and I need you. In every way one human being can need another, I need you. I need you for my sanity, for my love, and yes, for my damned cause that you despise so, and have worked so hard for simply because I asked you for your help."

Avon made an inarticulate protest, which Blake smothered by drawing him around for a deep, soul-searching kiss. Avon was still as a stone throughout, allowing Blake to caress and cherish him.

"If you go Avon, I'll die. I may walk around for a few more years and blow up a few dozen more Federation installations, but it won't be me, just a hollow man wearing my face. And what would you do without me?"

"I don't know," Avon repeated, soft as a breath. He reached for Blake, yanking the curly head down to meet his own. He kissed Blake, hard, expressing all the pent-up anger and frustration Blake had released in him. He was met with equal force.

"I don't want you to find out, Avon. I want you to stay with me... forever."

"There is no forever. Only lying promises."

"All right, not forever then, only so long as we both shall live."

Recognizing the archaic quality of the words, Avon lifted his head. Blake understood what he had said and was waiting for Avon's reply. He mulled over the possible answers- from a snide denial of the truth to an honest acceptance of Blake's love. All seemed fraught with danger. Everything was dangerous. But more dangerous if faced alone. He took a deep breath, wondering what he was going to say. And was therefore, more surprised than Blake when he heard himself saying, "For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health..."

"Til death do us part." And Blake leaned in to kiss him, only briefly as Avon was starting to shiver again. "Only it won't."

"No." Avon's eyes were black. "I've learned that much. Living on afterward is only a sham."

Blake grabbed Avon's chin and yanked him around until they were nose to nose. "That was not a suicide pact, you bloody, brooding, melancholy bastard. What have you got against happy endings?"

"Logic. I can't see us defeating the Federation and settling down in a rose-covered cottage."

"You never know. Logic isn't everything." Blake kissed Avon.

Avon clung to Blake, then whispered in his ear, "It won't last."

"Then we should make the most of what we have."

Avon nodded slowly. It was against his self-taught rules, but he pushed aside his doubts. Only if he embraced Blake's philosophy of living for the moment could he return the gift of Blake's love. Blake needed an emotional relationship, needed support and loyalty, needed him. Avon's hand snaked down to Blake's penis, but was intercepted en route by Blake's strong hand.

"No, none of that. Not until Cally checks you out. I'm not going to chance stressing your body any further."

Avon pouted. "I wouldn't consider it stressful. Quite the opposite."

Blake shook his head. "I know best."

"Don't you always?" Avon leaned against Blake heavily.

"I'm wise to your tricks." Blake stepped aside, shut off the water and began peeling off his sopping wet clothes. "Come on, back to bed."

"Oh, well, since you put it that way." Avon followed and allowed himself to be lovingly dried. Then insisted on repeating the favor for Blake. He was enjoying himself, but it was a large job. He found himself yawning before he was done. He barely noticed when the towel was taken from him and he was guided back into the other room and tucked into the bed.

"Sleep," Blake whispered, kissing the damp wavy strands that crossed Avon's forehead. Avon smiled slightly, eyes drooping shut, then sighed and rolled onto his side.

***

"Blake?" Jenna stood back from the door which Vila had just opened. Typically, he had scuttled around a corner just before the dangerous part. Cally and Gan were beside her, but somehow they weren't much comfort. It had been her plan, after all.

"Jenna." Blake appeared in the doorway, rumpled, unshaven, and wearing a gray velvet robe two sizes too small for him. His voice was low and angry. "That was an incredibly stupid stunt you pulled. What gave you the right to interfere with my personal life?"

"She cares about you, Blake. That gives her the right." Avon came up behind Blake. He was also rumpled and unshaven but his robe, a deep rich blue, fit properly. There was a dark red mark on his neck, just visible above the low collar of the robe. He looked at Jenna without his usual coldness. She stared into his face, then nodded. Blake had won. And Jenna had lost. Why didn't she feel like she'd lost, then? She looked back at Blake's face and knew. There was something there she'd never seen- a contentment, an inner peace. It filled him to overflowing and spilled out, enough for Avon, and everyone else around him.

"I'm your friend, Blake. I always was, no matter what."

Avon nodded. "A rare commodity, Blake, loyalty. Not something to be tossed lightly aside."

"I wasn't going to," Blake replied shortly, annoyed that Avon should be taking Jenna's part against him. After all, he wasn't angry at her for himself, but for Avon. Which reminded him... "Cally, Avon needs a comprehensive check-up."

"I do not."

"Yes, you do."

Avon crossed his arms in front of his chest and scowled. "No need to fuss. I tell you I'm fine now."

"I'll feel better if Cally confirms that."

The arms uncrossed and Avon's scowl deepened. "I despise medical examinations," he announced as he marched off in the direction of the medical unit, "particularly on an empty stomach."

Cally hurried after him. "It will not take long, Avon. I am sure we only need to slightly modify your anti-radiation treatment."

"Radiation. Federation guards. Pursuit ships. Travis. Servalan," Avon was heard to say as he went around the corner. "Oh, for the carefree life of a rebel."

Blake grinned at Jenna. "Now, see what you've let us in for?" He flung one comradely arm around her shoulders and the other around Gan's. "Let's go annoy Avon." The trio followed Avon and Cally.

A few seconds later, Vila popped his head around the corner. "Well, well, well. This should be fun." He rubbed his hands together and ran down the corridor, yelling, "Wait, Blake. Don't start without me!"


End file.
